


i will restore all that was broken

by killerqueenwrites (KillainsTales)



Series: this kid (my kid) [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Endgame Speculation, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), REUNION HUGS, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, all the dads are bonding, all the hugs, and i think i'm weirdly psychic guys, and it's breaking, because they're all Sad, even if he won't admit it, eventually, he gets them don't worry, i'm posting this as more endgame content is coming out, some time travel fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillainsTales/pseuds/killerqueenwrites
Summary: “He took my kids!” Clint shouts.“And he took mine!” Tony roars back.After watching Peter disappear, Tony is lost. People keep finding him.





	1. he took my kid

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back, everyone! i hope you enjoy this.
> 
> listen liSTEN i know i've more than likely messed up the timeline here, but we still have no idea what the heck is going to happen in endgame, so just let me enjoy myself before it kills us all.
> 
> this fic contains dialogue I’ve lifted from the trailers and possibly some plot points that i’ve deduced (although probably not, because the russos love to throw us completely off the scent and watch the world burn) but still, if you’re trying to avoid spoilers, probably don’t read this.
> 
> the title is from family tree by matthew west.

He’s staring at his hands. He’s been doing that for a while: maybe a few seconds, maybe hours, maybe years.

 

“Get up.”

 

He’s not dissolving.

 

“Terran.”

 

Why isn’t he disappearing? Why can’t the universe just let him die?

 

“We’re not dying here. Not today.”

 

He looks up, sparing one last glance at his hands. His face is wet, but he didn’t realise he was crying. He doesn’t feel like he’s crying. He doesn’t feel anything at all.

 

“If you were going to go, it would have happened by now.” The blue alien stands over him, the metal embedded in their skin glinting in the orange light. They hold out a robotic hand. “Get up.”

 

“Why?” Tony’s voice sounds like his throat is shredded, raw with pain and thirst and choked-down sobs. “Just let me…let me…”

 

“You have no idea how much I want that,” they tell him. “I’m not in the habit of inconveniencing myself for others, especially not someone as fragile as your species seems to be, but I heard the wizard. You’re important.”

 

“Clearly I’m not. Not if I couldn’t even…” Couldn’t even hold one person together. Couldn’t even save the kid he would have died for in a heartbeat.

 

Why had Strange given up the Stone if Tony was only going to fail? How was this the only way? The idiot should’ve kept the Stone and let Tony die. Half the universe would still be alive. Peter would still be alive.

 

_Peter Peter Peter-_

 

“There’s more to this.” The alien still isn’t leaving. “We’re not done yet, so get up and help me find a ship that can get us off this planet.”

 

“Why?”

 

The alien rolls their black eyes and grabs his hand, yanking him to his feet. His wound flares with pain.

 

“Ah! Ow, ow-“

 

“Why? For them. For everyone Thanos took, for everyone that died trying to stop him. For our friends. For my sister. For your son.”

 

They both start walking, and Tony’s too busy trying not to yell in pain to correct her.

 

“You might be prepared to shrivel up and die, but the wizard sacrificed everything for you. Are you going to insult him by throwing it back in his face? Are you going to insult the memory of your child by giving up?”

 

“He’s not my-“ Tony pants harshly as they climb a particularly steep pile of rubble. “I’m not his-“ _I wasn’t. He wasn’t._

 

The alien laughs harshly. “Thanos called himself my father for most of my life. You were more of a father to that boy in a few minutes than he was to me in twenty years. Gamora said we’d always be sisters, even though we weren’t even the same species.” She laughs again. “Now she’s dead, I’m being more of a sister than I ever was before.”

 

Gamora. Tony wishes she was alive, only because if Quill hadn’t lost his shit, everything might have turned out all right.

 

The alien slides down the other side of the heap of rubble. Tony follows more carefully, wincing every time he pulls at his wound.

 

There’s a ship in front of them, resting on the dusty red ground, oddly beautiful yet strangely menacing at the same time.

 

“This belonged to my friends.” The alien shakes herself and walks towards the ramp. “It should still fly.”

 

“I’m Tony.” It’s weird, out of place in the conversation, but better to get it out now than get hours into their new alliance and be too awkward to ask.

 

“Nebula.” She helps him on board and they both take in the red planet one more time before the ship’s door closes.

 

* * *

 

“There you are.” Nebula reaches out and touches his shoulder, carefully, like she’s not sure that’s how to do it. “Thought I’d lost you.”

 

He’s sitting against the control panel in the cockpit, squinting in the dim green light.

 

“I wish,” Tony mutters. No matter how much he wants to disappear, fade into nothing like everyone else had, he keeps being found. “Um, I…just recorded a message. For – in case, you know? For anyone that might be…”

 

Nebula doesn’t look convinced.

 

“You must have _someone_ -“ Tony starts to say, before he remembers that everyone she knew on Titan faded away.

 

“Maybe…” She stares out of the cockpit. “Quill said they split up – I don’t know if they will have survived, but I suppose they should know what happened. Just in case.”

 

“Just in case.” Tony hands her the helmet and flicks the switch again.

 

She takes it and walks out. He’s alone.

 

* * *

 

Fixing the ship is a chore and a half, even without the unfamiliar wiring and power source, but Nebula points him in the right direction and they manage it together. He considers deleting the messages from the helmet, but they’re not home and dry just yet, so he leaves it be for the moment.

 

“We have one more jump to make it to Terra. We’ll come out just above the atmosphere. You’re almost home.”

 

God, that’s terrifying.

 

What happened on Earth while he was gone? How many people died before Thanos got the last Stone? How many people were lost after he snapped his fingers? What had happened to Rhodey, to Happy? God, _Pepper_. And May.

 

He suddenly wishes he could disappear again. Telling May about…about him-

 

“Brace yourself.”

 

The ship jolts.

 

Two days ago, Tony was lost in space. He wishes he’d stayed that way.

 

* * *

 

“Oh my God, oh my God-“

 

“He’s fine, just exhausted – he might need stitches here-“

 

“Holy _shit_ , Tony, we thought you were dead-“

 

“Get out of my way. Stretcher coming through.”

 

“-oh my God, oh my God-“

 

“Pepper, Pepper, he’s fine. He’s fine, he’s okay.”

 

“What’s that on his shirt?” a voice whispers. Tony knows that voice. “Rhodey…”

 

“Maybe it’s just dirt.” Come on, he knows that voice too.

 

It’s not. It’s not dirt.

 

“What if it’s… _someone_?”

 

Where is he?

 

They landed, and then…what?

 

He stumbled out of the ship, saw the Compound in front of him, collapsed on the grass and…yeah, that was it.

 

Fuck’s sake, he’d wanted to stay on the grass. Why do people insist on finding him?

 

“Going up.”

 

He’s flying.

 

“They’re going to fix you up, man, you’ll be fine.”

 

“I love you, Tony.”

 

* * *

 

May Parker finds his room in the Medbay without too much difficulty.

 

He’s pretending to be asleep in the hopes that the nurses will take the hint and fuck off already, but May has a bullshit meter that rivals Pepper’s.

 

“Tony.”

 

The sound of her voice makes his eyes fly open in shock. She’s standing at the foot of his bed, looking as lost as Tony feels. He doesn’t need to say a word. She knows just by looking at his face.

 

* * *

 

Steve finds him, despite Tony’s best efforts to avoid exactly that.

 

“Nope,” Tony says, turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, and promptly walks into a coffee table. “Fuck.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Probably not. But does he care? Does he fuck. “Define okay. That table has definitely moved-“

 

“Nebula told us some of what happened.” Steve stumbles over her name a little, the strangeness of it. “We might need you to fill in the gaps, but…you holding up?”

 

Tony shrugs. He’s been cried on for the past forty-eight hours by Rhodey, Pepper, even Happy, but May…May was the hardest. She wasn’t crying out of relief. Happy hadn’t asked, but maybe he hadn’t wanted to know the answer.

 

“I…” Steve sighs, looking nervous. Steve Rogers never looks nervous. “Tony, I am so sorry.”

 

Okay…

 

“For not telling you about your parents, for not staying to talk about the Accords, for getting a one-track mind about…about Bucky, for not realising you were only trying to help the team.”

 

Tony has his own apology to make, but he can’t find the energy right now. Not for the apology Steve deserves. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, Cap, not anymore.”

 

“It does to me,” Steve insists. Why is he so fucking good? Why can he be an international war criminal and still be such an infuriatingly good person?

 

Yes, Tony needs to apologise, but he’ll have to do it when the words ‘I’m sorry’ don’t get stuck in his throat like bile. Instead, he just nods.

 

“So, yeah. Tony, I’m sorry-“

 

“Don’t!” Tony bites out. Steve blinks in shock. “Don’t say that, _please_ don’t say that.”

 

_“I’m sorry.”_

_Peter dies staring at the stars._

 

“Okay,” Steve says slowly. Tony can practically see the cogs turning in his brain, trying to follow the jump from exasperated to apathetic to angry to begging. “Sorry – um, I won’t. But I am.”

 

“Thank you.” What exactly for, Tony isn’t sure.

 

“You feel up to talking to everyone? Because…I think we need to.”

 

Tony just shrugs again.

 

* * *

 

“We lost,” Steve says, “all of us.”

 

Tony thinks he’s supposed to be paying attention. He can’t. He hasn’t since the first time Steve managed to wrangle them all together, broken pieces of broken teams, more comfortable with the strangers in the room than with their old friends.

 

“We lost friends.” Steve looks down at the table. “We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves.” He glances back up, looking around at everyone in the room. “Every single one of us-“

 

“Did we?”

 

A past version of Tony might have been amused at the interruption to Steve’s Very Serious Speech, but the expression on Clint’s face isn’t funny. Even more strangely, he’s staring at Tony. Weird; he’d been hoping he was invisible.

 

“Did we all lose someone?” Clint narrows his eyes. “Because some people were clearly luckier than others.”

 

He’s changed, all over, inside and out. Longer hair, new clothes, and permanently shrouded in anger and grief and something that Tony doesn’t want to put a name to. Natasha might have brought Barton back from Japan and cleaned the blood off him as best she could, but there’s something vital missing from him. Something else has taken its place, something dark and terrifying.

 

Maybe it only scares Tony because he sees it in himself, too.

 

“Clint,” Natasha says, a warning note in her voice.

 

“No, seriously. Once again, Tony Stark comes out unscathed, and leaves the rest of us to deal with the shitstorm.”

 

Can’t they…can’t they tell? Isn’t it written all over his face? May saw it instantly. He thought it was a universal language, the shared pain of parents.

 

No. No, he’s not that. He has no right to call himself _that_.

 

“What is it about you, huh? How can you just walk right through the fire and come out the other side?” Clint scowls at everyone in the room. “Everyone he loves is still alive. How the fuck is that fair?”

 

Nebula is watching with something like incredulity on her face, because she’s the only one who knows. She knows what Tony lost.

 

Once upon a time, Tony might have argued. He would have yelled back, given as good as he got and then some. Now…

 

Now he’s tired. Simply existing, surviving, is an indescribable effort.

 

“And that wizard gave up an Infinity Stone for you? So you could live? What makes you more important than Wilson, or Wanda-?“ Clint’s voice cracks for the briefest second. “What makes you more important than my _entire fucking family_ -?”

 

“Nothing!” Tony snaps.

 

Everyone blinks. He’s barely spoken in one of these meetings, or at all, and never with any trace of emotion in his voice.

 

“Nothing, okay? Do you – do you think I _asked_ Strange to give up the Stone for me?” He has everyone’s attention. It’s something he would have relished, once. Now he just wants to fade into the background. He wants to vanish and never be found. “Do you think I don’t wish, every single day, that he’d just let me die? You think I know why he did it?”

 

“I told you why,” Nebula mutters.

 

“But he still did.” Clint’s looking at him, but not at the same time, staring to the side of Tony like he isn’t quite there. Good. He doesn’t want to be there.

 

“Clearly. Hence me being here, and half of the universe being very much not here.”

 

“ _Tony_.” Natasha again, playing both sides, the only way she knows. If Tony cared enough, he'd sneer at her.

 

“Is this a fucking joke to you?” Clint shoots to his feet, sending his chair to the carpeted floor with an underwhelming thud.

 

Tony stays seated. He doesn’t have the energy for this. “Exactly the opposite.”

 

“You don’t understand! How could you? You didn’t lose anyone. Why don’t you care?” Clint laughs. It’s only a little hysterical. “Why don’t you care about all the people that died?”

 

That seems to be the last straw for Clint. It’s definitely the last straw for Tony.

 

“Hell of an assumption to make,” Tony says flatly. “Lot of assumptions there, actually.”

 

“Guys,” Rhodey says, but he doesn’t step in.

 

It might be Thor’s mismatched eyes, but he looks lost, confused. Carol, AKA Glowing Space Lady, AKA A Friend of Rhodey’s Who is Somehow Cooler than Tony, is staring at them like she can’t believe this is a team.

 

Well, first of all, they’re not.

 

Clint’s still yelling. “How can you just sit there-?”

 

“How do you have the energy to be like that-?”

 

“He took my kids!” Clint shouts.

 

“And he took mine!” Tony roars back.

 

The pause is heavy, loaded, like the beat of silence between lightning and thunder.

 

The two men stare at each other for a moment longer before Tony breaks away.

 

Fuck, he’s crying again. Not proper crying, not crying he can feel, but pathetic, silent crying, nothing to show for it except tears rolling silently down his cheeks.

 

“I didn’t know-“

 

“No, you don’t know shit, Barton.”

 

“Rhodey,” Steve murmurs, “who’s he talking about?”

 

Rhodey meets Tony’s eyes across the room. “I don’t know.”

 

They’re all staring at him still, this time with pity and confusion and sadness, and Tony can’t take it anymore.

 

He runs.


	2. what kid?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey finds him staring at the empty slot called 17-A.
> 
> “What kid?”
> 
> Tony barely flinches.
> 
> Rhodey moves further into the lab, staring at the schematics on the screens around the empty case. “What kid, Tony?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want you all to know that i wrote the scene where clint talks about losing his family long before that second trailer came out; the only difference was they were watching tv. guess i’m psychic, huh…
> 
> am i dooming this chapter by uploading it on a monday? quite possibly. guys, thank you so much for your comments on the last chapter. i tried to reply to as many of them as i could, but if I didn’t manage to, please know i read and appreciate every single one.

Natasha finds him, curled in the corner of his lab. She sits next to him on the floor, not close enough to touch, and rests her head back on the wall.

 

“Spider-Man was with you,” she says after a long silence. “He didn’t come back.”

 

Of course. They’ll have seen the news, the shaky videos on phone cameras: Iron Man and Spider-Man fighting aliens in Manhattan. They’ll have spoken to Bruce about what he saw, maybe gotten Rhodey to pull up FRIDAY’s logs from that day. They won’t have found Karen, though; she’s buried too deep, hidden from everyone but Tony and-

 

Tony stares at his hands. They’re clean now, but some of _him_ had come back from Titan _._

 

Natasha understands, taking his hands and squeezing. “I thought he was young. That thing with Lang in Germany – he was smart, too.”

 

“Yeah.” Tony’s voice croaks but he manages a weak smile. “He was.”

 

“Everyone’s worried,” she says, “and Clint’s sorry.”

 

“‘S’okay.”

 

“I’ll tell Steve you’re not coming back to the meeting today. He’ll have to deal with it.” She clasps his hands again before standing. “Want me to get anyone? Pepper, Rhodey?”

 

Tony shakes his head.

 

“Okay. Do what you need. Be angry, be sad, but Tony?” Natasha pauses at the door. “Be something.”

 

* * *

 

He stumbles to the kitchen around three on the hunt for coffee. Bruce is in the common area with a tablet on his lap, squinting through his glasses.

 

“Hey,” Tony whispers. He knows the entire Compound is soundproof, but it feels wrong to disturb the peace of the night.

 

“Hey, Tony.” Bruce is either too kind or too tired to treat him any different than usual. “I was gonna look for you, actually.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I was looking through your files before you got back, just in case…you know.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“There’s a kid listed as an intern here, but you didn’t take interns when I was around. He has access…well, pretty much everywhere. Can you clear that up?”

 

Bruce picks up the tablet and turns it so Tony can see and suddenly, without warning, there he is.

 

Natasha’s words play in his head. _Be something_.

 

And Tony Stark is. He is something.

 

He is crouching on the floor in front of his friend at three in the morning, sobbing into his hands.

 

 _Now_ he can feel. Now he hurts.

 

Peter is still there, looking so awkward and uncomfortable and _alive_ that Tony can almost hear his nervous giggles.

 

_“Do I have to have a picture taken, Mr Stark?”_

_“You do if you want to keep working for me.”_

_“It feels like a mugshot.”_

_“Except nowhere near as attractive.”_

_“Ouch.” A pause. “But seriously, can’t you just get FRIDAY to let me in?”_

_“Happy won’t like that.”_

_“Happy literally knows who I am!”_

 

“Tony. Tony? I’m sorry, I didn’t know – come on, it’s okay.” Except it’s not okay. Even Bruce sounds a little freaked.

 

The words are still there, silently accusing him. _Peter Parker: Missing._

 

Tony does the only thing he’s good at anymore.

 

He runs.

 

* * *

 

This time, it’s Clint who finds him, the only other person apart from Natasha who knows the best hiding places in the Compound.

 

“You know,” Clint says, “I was holding Lila.”

 

Tony doesn’t reply. He can’t.

 

“We were out, just having a picnic one minute, and the next…” Clint’s eyes are far away. “Laura was screaming, Nate was crying, Coop was shouting for me and my little girl just…” He makes a _poof_ motion with his hands. “And then I got here and Wanda was gone, too, and I’m just – so glad Nat’s still here, because she’s the last person I really care about. And you? You still have your friends, your fiancée and I was pissed, man. But you saw something, didn’t you? You felt like me.”

 

“Like what?” God, his voice sounds awful.

 

“Like exactly how I felt when I stared at my daughter’s ashes on my hands and waited for my turn. And it never came.”

 

“He fucking…” Tony twists his fingers together, hating how right Clint is. “He wasn’t supposed to be there. I sent him home, goddammit. He was supposed to be safe. Everything I did was to keep him safe and I couldn’t even – what was the point of me being in his life at all if I couldn’t save him when it mattered?”

 

“I’ve been asking myself that ever since it happened.”

 

“He felt it.” Tony doesn’t know why he’s telling Clint this, of all people. Maybe because he’s right; maybe they do have more in common than anyone else here. “He felt all of it. He saw everyone else go, he knew it was coming, and it hurt. It took so long and he was crying and I…I couldn’t say a fucking word. He begged me to save him, and then he said he was sorry.” He sniffs. “What kind of fucking – was I that much of a dick to him? He felt like he had to apologise? For what? Hugging me, crying, while he was dying?”

 

“For leaving you.” The certainty in Clint’s voice takes Tony aback.

 

“How can you possibly-?”

 

“Pietro.” There’s another level to Clint’s grief – guilt, Tony realises, because it’s weighing on him as well.

 

Thinking you’re responsible for the death of one kid is very different to knowing half the universe died because of you.

 

“He was sorry,” Clint says, “for saving my life, dying in front of me – like, what the fuck, man? Jesus, I was supposed to take care of Wanda, too. It’s fucked, it’s all so fucked.”

 

“It’s fucked,” Tony agrees.

 

“What are we?” Clint say hoarsely. “When a kid loses their parents, they’re orphans, but this…it doesn’t even have a name. It’s not supposed to happen. Parents shouldn’t have to lose their kids.”

 

It’s as close to an apology as he’ll probably get from Barton, but Tony appreciates it nonetheless.

 

They sit in silence, in some weird, fucked up kind of solidarity. _Buddy up, guys, you watched your kids die._

 

* * *

 

_“Mr Stark?”_

_No, no, no, Peter._

_“I’m being beamed up!”_

_“Hang on, kid!”_

_Peter does, because he trusts Tony._

_“Pete, you gotta let go! I’m gonna catch you!”_

_“But you said save the wizard!” Peter is gasping for air, his breaths getting thinner by the second. “…I can’t breathe…”_

_“You’re too high up!” Tony knows how that feels. He knows it intimately. “You’re running out of air!”_

_“Yeah…” Peter manages. “That makes sense…”_

_And then he’s falling and Tony can’t breathe either, but he catches Peter, just like he promised._

_“Mr Stark?”_

_No, no, not Peter, not Peter-_

_“I don’t feel so good.”_

_Peter stumbles and trips and falls and Tony catches him again, because Peter trusts him to, but Peter is disappearing, slipping right through his fingers. Tony can’t say a word. He can’t breathe._

_“I’m sorry.”_

 

When he wakes up, his face is wet with silent tears.

 

* * *

 

People find him all over the place during the next few days.

 

Pepper finds him beside her when she wakes up that morning, tears still trickling down his cheeks.

 

“Tony,” she whispers. “What happened? You and Happy – there’s something you’re not saying-“

 

Shit, _Happy_. “The kid,” Tony manages.

 

“I gathered that,” Pepper says, “but what-?” She stops, drawing in a sharp breath. “Spider-Man?”

 

“His name was Peter.” It hurts to say his name – Tony doesn’t think he’s ever _hurt_ this much – but Peter deserves for someone to know. Someone needs to know how good he was. “He – God, Pep.” His voice cracks.

 

She presses her lips to the top of his head. “It’s all right, Tony, it’s okay.”

 

It’s not.

 

* * *

 

Rhodey finds him staring at the empty slot called 17-A.

 

“What kid?”

 

Tony barely flinches.

 

Rhodey moves further into the lab, staring at the schematics on the screens around the empty case. “What kid, Tony?”

 

A moment passes in silence. The screens flash and change, scrolling through data and readouts. _Prototype 17-A (Iron Spider): deployed. Currently offline. Artificial Intelligence 2.0 (Karen): offline. Location tracking: offline. Biometric scanners: offline._

 

“Spider-Man?” Rhodey frowns. “He was with you, wasn’t he?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony mumbles.

 

“Sorry, man. I know you liked him.” Tony almost laughs at the understatement. “Listen, Bruce was asking me – what about this intern? Peter, right? Were you close? Is he the one you told Clint about in the meeting?”

 

All Tony can do is stare helplessly at the screens in front of him.

 

“Oh.” Rhodey sucks in a breath. “Oh, _fuck_. Tony…”  


Here it comes.

 

“On that file, he’s sixteen. Please tell me that’s out of date, or something.”

 

Tony shakes his head.

 

“Shit, man.” He’s expecting a punch or even something worse. The hug is surprising. “Tony, I’m so sorry.”

 

“He was just a kid,” Tony whispers. Doesn’t Rhodey hate him? He should be shouting and screaming at Tony for putting a kid in danger.

 

“That’s why you sent him home.”

 

So Rhodey has seen FRIDAY’s logs. “I tried. But he…he won’t hang back if he thinks he can help. I mean – he wouldn’t – _fuck_.”

 

Rhodey’s grip tightens for a second. “Sounds like someone I know.”

 

* * *

 

Steve finds him in the room that was supposed to be for Peter.

 

Steve takes in the room – Star Wars, Legos, gaming consoles, clearly made for a teenager – and sits next to Tony on the bed.

 

“Was he yours?”

 

Tony starts. What a question. “Peter?” His name burns on the way out.

 

“Was that his name?”

 

“Peter Parker.”

 

“Oh,” Steve says, and then, “oh.” His eyes flash with recognition.

 

Steve’s smart. Maybe he’s been talking to Natasha, too. He’ll put it all together: the nerdy teenage room in the residential wing of the Avengers Compound; Spider-Man disappearing into space along with Tony; Tony’s violently distraught reaction to a picture of some apparently random kid from the SI servers.

 

“He wasn’t my son,” Tony says. “He was my…responsibility. He was fucking sixteen, Rogers.”

 

“Just a kid.”

 

“He was a kid.” _My kid_.

 

“I didn’t think you’d lost anyone,” Steve says quietly. “I didn’t understand why you were drifting like that. I still don’t…get it. You and Clint and the raccoon – you’re all…I don’t know.”

 

“You lost people, too.” Tony might have been sleepwalking for what feels like weeks, but he’s noticed who’s missing. No Wilson, Wanda, Vision, and no Barnes.

 

“We all did. We all lost friends, but some of you lost kids, and I can’t imagine-“

 

“You don’t want to.”

 

Steve pauses. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

 

Tony waits until the throb of horror in his gut fades away. He can’t blame Steve for forgetting what those words do to him; everyone has their own grief to work through. “For what, this time?”

 

“Everything.”

 

“Okay,” Tony says, “okay.”

 

* * *

 

Tony turns the console over in his hands again.

 

_“Ew – ew, no, Mr Stark! It’s vibrating! Make it stop!”_

_“Isn’t that the point, kid?”_

_“I don’t like it!” But Peter’s laughing. “It tickles!”_

_“Oh, yeah?” Tony grins at the item he’s just picked up and throws it._

_“No, that’s not fair – come on! A blue shell? Really? Stop vibrating, controller!”_

_“Please stop saying the word ‘vibrating’.”_

_“I’m just trying to play MarioKart in peace here, and I feel so attacked right now.”_

_Peter still wins._

 

They always fought over who got which colour controller to slot into the plastic steering wheels that Peter insisted were essential.

 

_“There’s actually blue on your costume, Parker. I bagsied red first.”_

_“I can’t believe you just said bagsied.”_

 

But Peter’s left it in the portable mode, both controllers attached to the screen so it looked more like some kind of Gameboy than something from 2018. Humans never stop being nostalgic, he supposes.

 

“Teenagers, huh?”

 

He doesn’t need to look around to place the strong Brooklyn accent. (It’s weird enough that the fucking raccoon talks, never mind that he has a recognisable American accent.) He’s been found in Peter’s room again, lost in memories that make him want to laugh, cry and scream all at once.

 

Rocket stands just inside the doorway, holding something that looks like it could be a Gameboy if it went on a diet and realised they were in the twenty-first century. “Groot used to have his face stuck in this thing all day long. I threatened to smash it once, right before your friend landed on our windshield. Now…gotta keep it charged up. Can’t lose his place. He’d kill me if his high score got deleted.”

 

Groot. The tree.

 

Everyone does this; they all have this strange way of talking about the people they’ve lost, speaking in the past tense but saying things that make it seem like they’ll be back any minute. It’s almost like it hasn’t quite sunk in yet.

 

“Teenagers,” Tony agrees, like he has any kind of right to. Like he’s any kind of parent.

 

“Shouldn’t have gotten attached,” the raccoon mutters. “Dumb fucking thing to do. Had to watch him die, didn’t I?”

 

“Join the club,” Tony croaks. Shouldn’t have gotten attached. Shouldn’t have let _Peter_ get attached, shouldn’t have let him keep looking at Tony like he hung the fucking moon. Maybe the kid would’ve stayed on the bus. Maybe he wouldn’t have run to Tony like he could save him. Maybe Peter wouldn’t have believed in him so much. Maybe Tony wouldn’t have failed him quite so hard.

 

Rocket appraises him for a second – God help him, he’s seeing emotions on what should be an animal’s face. “Kids. Never ask permission to get under your skin, do they? They’re just…there one day, and surprise! You’re a dad.”

 

“I-“ Tony breaks off. He doesn’t deserve that. “I’m not – not _that_.”

 

Rocket takes in the room, the console he’s holding, and has the audacity to snort. “Sure. Whatever you say, Stark.”

 

* * *

 

“Tony.”

 

He knows that voice. It’s not the one he misses with every atom in his body, but maybe it’s one he needs.

 

Maybe here’s one kid he hasn’t let down.

 

Harley Keener crouches in front of him, so much older and somehow exactly the same. “Hey.”

 

“Harley?” Tony whispers. He looks around to see where he’s been found this time; he’s in the lab again, staring blindly at schematics for a Spider-Man suit he never got to finish. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I knew you needed me.” Harley tilts his head. “We’re connected, remember?”

 

Tony lets out a noise that could be a laugh. It could be a sob.

 

“You want food?” Harley holds up a paper bag, shaking it. “I got you a sandwich.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Tuna, like you wanted.”

 

“That was five years ago.”

 

Harley lightly tosses the bag at him and Tony reflexively grabs it.

 

“Come on,” Harley says. “Get up. Captain America is throwing a self-righteous dicky fit about you hiding out down here.”

 

That’s probably an exaggeration, but the image is still entertaining. “Fucking let him.”

 

Harley smirks. “They’re lost without you, you know. They can’t make a decision, they can’t fucking think. They need you there, man.”

 

“No one needs me,” Tony says. “They’d be better off without me.”

 

“No.” There’s such absolute, childlike faith in Harley’s voice that Tony nearly crumbles. How much did Peter trust him? Did he really think Tony could save him? “That’s not true.”

 

“This happened because of me.”

 

“That could not be further from the truth.” Harley pulls him to his feet. “Mr All-American up there thinks you’ve moped for long enough, and I think he’s right. Eat your fucking sandwich.”

 

As they walk out, Harley’s eyes skim over the Spider-Man suit on the screen and he winces.

 

Tony looks at him properly. “You got older.”

 

“That’s what people do when you don’t check in for five years. Appreciate the car, by the way. Didn’t get to tell you after you just never showed up again.”

 

“Are you on your own?”

 

Harley’s expression tightens, and Tony knows the answer.

 

“It’s okay,” he says. “You can stay here as long as you need, ki-“ He chokes on the nickname.

 

“Thanks,” Harley mumbles, but he doesn’t look like he’s the one who needs Tony.

 

Maybe Tony’s the one who needs him.

 

* * *

 

It’s fair to say that, given his prolonged absence, they’d all assumed that Scott Lang was just another friend they’d lost, another ally gone without a trace.

 

Which is why, when he appears on the security feed outside the Compound, they’re all more than a little surprised.

 

Maybe the pain of parents is a universal language after all, because Clint takes one look at Scott and pulls him into a hug.

 

“Fuck, dude,” Scott mumbles, and the lost look on his face is as familiar to Tony as breathing. “This is messed up, so messed up.”

 

There’s some introductions and yet another body count for Scott’s benefit and then they all pile back into a conference room where he recounts his time, or not-time, in the Quantum Realm. Some part of Tony perks up at the thought that Hank Pym might actually have finished his most insane idea, but most of him is swimming in apathy again. It’s easier than hurting.

 

Carol and Bruce look the most interested by what he’s saying and Harley, a not unwelcome addition to their team of scraps and leftovers, seems to be following most of it, but everyone else is clearly more than a little lost.

 

“Woah, woah, woah, okay,” Harley interrupts. “Are you saying time travel is possible? Without Harry Potter and his Sorcerer’s Stone?”

 

Clearly the kid’s been spending too much time with Tony. A familiar wave of exasperated fondness rushes up, only to be swamped just as quickly by an equally familiar aching, gaping emptiness, because _that thought isn’t normally directed at Harley_.

 

“Theoretically,” Scott says, “but honestly, I’m just the Marty here. Hank, Hope and Janet were the Docs, and if they’re gone…”

 

Peter would’ve loved those references.

 

Tony tunes out the rest of the meeting. He only comes back to himself when Harley punches him in the arm. Hard. “What?”

 

And then he sees everyone else: Clint, frozen; Rocket, his eyes glittering oddly; Steve, looking frightened to even hope.

 

Carol shakes her head. “You guys are a hot mess. I get why Fury named you after me.” She glances around at them, her gaze landing on Clint, Scott, Rocket and Tony in particular, and she softens. “I get it. I have a kid, too. Let’s all get our shit together so you can get yours back.”

 

“Get them back?” Tony whispers.

 

_Get them back. Get him back._

 

For the next two days, those are the only words Tony knows.


	3. sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn’t just a game,” Tony says quietly, but everyone looks at him all the same. His own words are rising up without permission, laughing in his face, echoing in Strange’s voice as well as his. “It’s the endgame.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay. i don’t know if you guys have seen the new trailer yet, but oh my goddddd. this fic is basically canon now. irondad is canon. GUESS I’M PSYCHIC, HUH?
> 
> unrelated recent google search by me: how to exit my room and act like I haven’t been crying for three hours. i'm seeing endgame twice and it's going to kill meeee

It’s not an easy process.

 

They have to figure out a way to jump through time without the Time Stone that isn’t ‘accidentally get sucked through a time vortex while trying to avoid tardigrades’. They have to isolate points throughout history where each of the Stones have shown up and can be taken easily without doing too much damage to the space-time continuum. (Yes, it is a real thing, despite Harley’s continuous muttered accusations of “Doctor Who bullshit”.)

 

The most difficult one is, ironically, the one that they’ve met the most, the one that seems to be haunting them, taunting them: the Tesseract.

 

“If Steve doesn’t crash with the Tesseract, he won’t wake up in 2011 and we’ll never have him on our team,” Natasha argues. “Carol won’t get her powers. We can’t go back to 1943.”

 

Carol shrugs. “I could talk to Fury in ’95, then – I haven’t aged much, it won’t be too much of a shock-“

 

“You wanna tangle with a Kree strike team, Ronan _and_ that Flerken?” Rocket says with a wide grin. “’Cause if you do, I’m in.”

 

“Okay, no, if the raccoon wants in, it’s almost definitely a bad idea-“

 

“The fuck is a raccoon?”

 

But Tony knows where they have to go. “New York.”

 

“What?”

 

“Think about it. The Space and Mind Stones show up in the same place. Two birds, one stone. Or…two Stones, one hop. If Carol gets the Tesseract before New York has a chance to happen, we might never form the team at all. Of course, I might never be traumatised enough to create Ultron, the Maximoffs might never get their powers-“

 

“We are, of course, assuming that the removal of the Stones from the timeline is permanent,” Wong says from behind his pile of books on the Eye of Agamotto and other similar magical bullshit. “Once we take each one and use them, we can simply return to a few seconds after we left and replace it.”

 

“Assuming we don’t die,” Clint mutters.

 

“If that is the case, I don’t think preserving the fabric of reality will matter so much; Thanos has already caused too much damage. But I agree with Stark – minimising the number of jumps would be ideal.”

 

Tony’s head hurts. “Two down, then. So that leaves Reality, Time, Power and Soul.”

 

“I can retrieve the Reality Stone,” Thor says.

 

Wong nods. “I can get the Eye.”

 

“Awesome.” Tony resigns himself to the fact that neither of them are going to explain themselves any further than that. “Rocket, Nebula – you probably know the most about the last two.”

 

“Power, yep,” Rocket says, sharing a glance with Nebula. “Sure. We can do that.”

 

Nebula sighs. “The only way to get the Soul Stone is to do what Thanos did: sacrifice something you truly love. It’s a test, to make sure you fully understand what wielding it will cost.”

 

“Those Stones have already cost us everything,” Clint hisses. “I think we understand what they can do very well.”

 

“I’d rather not lose anyone else. How is this…” Steve struggles for a moment. “Rule…enforced?”

 

“It’s a law of the universe. You don’t just _break_ it. There’s no wiggle room.”

 

“Well,” Tony says, “laws aren’t Cap’s speciality.”

 

Everyone in the room cracks a smile and Steve gives him an appreciative glance.

 

“What? I was being mean.”

 

“No, you were being funny.” Steve smiles. “Good to have you back, Tony.”

 

Is he back? He still feels lost.

 

“So.” He clears his throat. “New York. Only problem there – well, multiple problems. The other versions of us, the alien army and the crazy demigod.”

 

“We can negotiate with Loki,” Thor says.

 

“This would be the same Loki working with Thanos at this point, yes?” Bruce says.

 

“With Thanos?” Nebula snorts, and it occurs to Tony that she’d sounded exactly like Quill when he’d first met the idiot. “ _For_ Thanos, maybe, but not willingly.”

 

“You knew him,” Thor says.

 

“We were the same,” she replies. “Just more of Thanos’ strays, forced to do what he wanted. Complying was easier than defying him. Mistakes would not be tolerated. Your brother learned that soon enough.”

 

Tony never thought he’d see the day he felt sorry for Loki of all people, but remembering Nebula’s stories when they’d been stuck on that ship, stories Tony had traded with memories of his own shitty father, and sure, Howard was a dick but he’d never been a monster, not like that…

 

“We have all been on the same path longer than we thought,” Thor rumbles, sounding more like the god he is. “I said before that someone has been playing a game, making pawns of us. It is our turn.”

 

“This isn’t just a game,” Tony says quietly, but everyone looks at him all the same. His own words are rising up without permission, laughing in his face, echoing in Strange’s voice as well as his. “It’s the endgame.”

 

* * *

 

They manage it. They really fucking do it.

 

Somehow, _somehow_ , they’re all back and alive and relatively unscathed, although Clint looks a little singed and Rocket is carrying several weapons that he definitely did _not_ have when he left and Wong is even quieter than he was before.

 

Tony’s version of the gauntlet isn’t as elegant as Thanos’ was, but he’s past giving a shit at this point. It isn’t forged from a star, just good Wakandan vibranium, but it’s holding the five Stones they’ve retrieved so far, and that’s all it has to do.

 

Now only the Soul Stone remains, and Nebula tells them they may as well retrieve it in their present, if only so Wong’s blood pressure doesn’t reach critical levels over the amount of time jumping they’re doing. “But as soon as it abandons Thanos, he’ll realise what we’re doing. He will be prepared for us.”

 

“He might think he is.” Clint bares his teeth. “But I promise you, the ass who killed his own daughter is about to be hit with what it’s really like to be a parent, and it ain’t gonna be pretty. Right, Stark?”

 

Tony jolts in shock. Parent? The protest is on the tip of his tongue, but Harley is giving him a Look and then he remembers how the thought of Peter hasn’t dragged him down to that empty place in his head in a long time. Peter has been driving him instead, because when he fights, it won’t be for revenge. It will be to see his kid again.

 

 _His kid_. Okay, yeah. He’s a parent. He grins. “Right.”

 

* * *

 

Vormir is gorgeous. It’s also completely empty and chillingly lifeless.

 

Tony shivers as he steps into yet another silvery pool; the water is a little more viscous than it would be on Earth, and it clings to his suit.

 

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Steve murmurs, barely breaking the eerie stillness that surrounds them.

 

Nebula scoffs. “No.”

 

She finds her way up the mountain anyway.

 

Carol ignites her fist – and that will never not be awesome, maybe when Tony has the energy to care he’ll get excited about it – and Steve raises his shield.

 

Something moves in the dark in front of them.

 

“Welcome.” The shadows take form, but not one that Tony’s eyes can really focus on. “I wondered how long it would take you to find me.”

 

Steve frowns, like he recognises the hoarse voice but isn’t sure where from.

 

“Hi,” Tony says. “We’re here to negotiate an apparently non-negotiable law of the universe. Failing that, my friend has the power of the Space Stone contained in her fists, and she’s very trigger-happy with it.”

 

“My entire body,” Carol corrects. She’s even cooler than Tony gave her credit for, how is that fair? Peter’s going to love her.

 

The thought almost makes him stumble. It’s the first time he’s thought about Peter without a rush of hurt following, the first time he’s consciously accepted that Peter’s coming back. It’s the first time he’s allowed himself _hope_.

 

“That won’t be necessary,” the figure says. “I am not who you have to negotiate with.”

 

“Then who is?”

 

“The Soul Stone.”

 

“All those stories about it being sentient…” Nebula says. “They’re true? It has a consciousness?”

 

“It…has some degree of intelligence. Wisdom, you could say. Enough to know that what Thanos has done needs to be undone.”

 

“Then why didn’t it stop him?” Carol snaps.

 

“He passed the test.”

 

“Bit of a flawed system, if you ask me.”

 

“Perhaps. It is not for me to question it.”

 

Steve steps forward, his shield arm dropping a little. “Do I…know you?”

 

“You did once.”

 

“Clears it up, thanks.”

 

“Come on, let’s do this,” Tony says. “You said the Stone wants to help us, right? No catch? No sacrifice?”

 

The figure moves closer, and Tony has never felt so utterly scrutinised, stripped bare by someone’s gaze. “The sacrifice has already been made.”

 

“What the hell does that mean?”

 

“Thanos saw his only true opponent in you, Stark, and he was correct in more ways than he realised. You two are…equals. Equal and opposite. Thanos gave up his daughter for what he believed to the greater cause. You, Tony Stark, are motivated to fight the greater cause by the loss of your son.”

 

Silence. Carol’s fist sputters out like an extinguished candle.

 

“What do…?” Tony blows out a huge breath. He can’t breathe in again. Why can’t he breathe? “No, you can’t…he isn’t _yours_ , do you hear me? You can’t have him!”

 

The figure doesn’t reply.

 

No. No, he can’t let Peter be the sacrifice. The kid deserves so much better. He deserves to have a life and grow up and be happy. He shouldn’t be taken in some bullshit cosmic ritual because Tony had the audacity to love him, to lay some claim to him, like he had any kind of right to.

 

Tony closes his eyes. If he does this, he’ll never see Peter and Harley grow up, never marry Pepper, never have a child with her. But he has to. For Peter. “You can have me.”

 

“Tony!” Steve says sharply.

 

“Shut it, Rogers. You hear me, asshole? Take me. You get me instead. Good trade-off, right?”

 

There’s still only silence, but the dark shape seems almost satisfied.

 

Tony waits. This is it, he’s certain of it. He’ll finally be lost forever, no hope of being found.

 

“A child for everything,” the figure finally says. “Everything for a child. Equal and opposite.”

 

“Are you taking the deal or not?” Tony starts talking faster to hide his pounding heart, hoping his knees don’t give out on him. “I’d advise you to go with _yes_ , because I will crawl to the ends of the universe before I let you take Peter-“

 

“You weren’t listening, Stark,” the dark shape says sharply. “The sacrifice is already done. That which you had to lose, you have already _lost_.”

 

“No-“

 

“The Stone deems you worthy.”

 

A weight appears in Tony’s clenched fist and he opens his fingers to see the orange gem resting in his palm. “But-“

 

“Your child will return along with everyone else. The Stone can see you understand the burden of wielding it. It sees no reason to keep him once you fix what Thanos has broken.”

 

Tony’s knees threaten to give out again, this time from relief.

 

“Hurry. He will know now what you are doing.” The shape fades into the shadows again. “Good luck, Stark.”

 

They make their way back to the ship in shell-shocked silence and Nebula starts the take-off procedures with more aggression than strictly necessary.

 

“Were you bluffing?” Steve says.

 

Tony frowns. That hadn’t even occurred to him. “No.”

 

* * *

 

“You _idiot_!”

 

Tony winces. He’s barely been off the ship five minutes and Pepper is already facing him down like an avenging angel, hair loose around her shoulders and eyes wide and furious.

 

“Steve told me what you said, what you were going to do. You can’t _do_ that, Tony!”

 

“I had to,” he says. He needs her to understand this. “There was a moment…I thought I’d lost Peter for good, and I – oh, no, please don’t cry.”

 

Too late. She wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “Tony, I…I need you, okay?”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, I need you because…” Pepper bites her lip. “I’m pregnant, Tony.”

 

Not for the first time, Tony’s whole world spins off its axis and goes into freefall. “…what?”

 

“Yeah.” Pepper’s smiling and crying all at once. “I’m…pretty sure.”

 

“Holy shit.” Tony crosses the distance between them and kisses her.

 

Is he…happy? This is perfect; at one point, it would’ve been everything he ever wanted, but now…

 

Now it’s hard to feel prepared for another kid when he has one he’s already let down, almost irredeemably. He’s still shaking from the terror of thinking he’d lost Peter forever. He can’t fail again.

 

“But do you understand that you can’t be that stupid anymore?” she whispers. “This kid’s going to need both of us, Tony.”

 

“What you’re feeling now,” Tony says softly, “how much you love this kid already, how you’d do anything for them…”

 

Pepper sighs and rests her forehead against his. “Peter?”

 

“Peter,” Tony agrees.

 

* * *

 

Steve fights him, because of course he does, but this time, Tony knows he’s just concerned.

 

“This could kill you, Tony.”

 

“We don’t know that, Rogers.”

 

“You need to think about everyone – you have people relying on you. Pepper, Harley-“

 

“Exactly, I have people relying on me. _You_ have people relying on me. I can get them back, Steve.” Steve. He never calls him Steve to his face. “Barnes, Wilson, Wanda, T’Challa, Shuri – everyone we lost.”

 

“And Peter,” Steve says.

 

“And Peter.” Always, always Peter.

 

“Tony.” Steve’s voice actually cracks. “Why does it have to be you?” Doesn’t he want his friends back? Is he actually considering Tony ahead of Barnes?

 

“It always is,” Tony says, and he manages a smile. “Always gotta lay down on that wire.”

 

Steve flinches.

 

“And because, if Nebula’s right, and she usually is, the Soul Stone will only work for me.”

 

“Because of Peter.”

 

“Because of Peter.” Always Peter.

 

Steve still looks troubled, so Tony plasters on his best press conference smile and lies. “Look, I’m almost certain it’s safe, Cap. I’ve upgraded my armour, and I’m pretty sure it can withstand the energy from the Stones long enough. Come on. It’s me. Have a little faith, yeah?”

 

“Sorry. Sorry, it’s just…I know you, Tony.”

 

Tony waves his hand. “It’ll be fine. Besides, we gotta get everyone back.”

 

Steve nods and gives in, and Tony tries not to imagine the stink he would’ve kicked up if he’d known about Pepper being pregnant.

 

* * *

 

“No. No, absolutely not.”

 

“You built me this armour-“

 

“For _emergencies_.”

 

“I’d say the fate of the universe is an emergency.”

 

“We can handle this.”

 

“You need all the help you can get.”

 

“Help keeps arriving every day.” And it does. From a whole guard of elite Wakandan warriors with spears to a weird space loner with an arrow that flies when he whistles to one Asgardian with an honestly terrifying sword and a drinking problem, friends and allies are coming forward with their support. “We have numbers.”

 

“You’re missing half your team!”

 

“You’re pregnant!” Tony shouts.

 

“I’m not incapable,” Pepper snaps back, “and I’m _barely_ pregnant. You used to walk around with a mini nuclear reactor in your chest.”

 

“But…” For a second, terror chokes Tony. “What if something happens…?”

 

“You’re a hypocrite,” Pepper says without a trace of anger in her voice. “Every single time you run off in one of your suits, you come back hurt. The least you can do is let me come with you.”

 

She’s right, and Tony hates it. Peter’s absence is still a gaping hole in his chest; he won’t survive losing anyone else he loves.

 

Fuck.

 

He loves the kid. He never told him, but he does.

 

He tried to bench Peter and it didn’t work; he really should have learned his lesson after the Vulture. He can see the same determination in Pepper’s eyes now. She won’t stay put either.

 

“Okay.” Tony relents, blowing out a long breath. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

The Queen Mother agrees to let them use the plains of Wakanda, reminding them that her country still has the best healthcare in the world, even if half of its doctors are gone.

 

“Bring them back, Mr Stark,” she tells him, and beneath her regal composure, there’s a grief that Tony knows very well. She misses her children.

 

Saying goodbye is a strange, sombre affair; Tony inexplicably thinks of a scene from one of those _Lord of the Rings_ movies that Peter loves, the soldiers riding off to a battle they know they have little chance of winning. It’s not that Tony doesn’t think they’ll win; he’s just not sure if he’ll live to see it.

 

Once again, he’s resigning himself to the fact that he might never see Peter or Harley or Pepper or Rhodey or Happy again. _Stop being selfish_ , he tells himself, and it can’t be an accident that his gaze then lands on May.

 

She’s standing beside Happy, and Tony distantly realises that he’s barely seen either of them since this whole nightmare began. Should he have done more, checked in to see how they were coping, even though he was barely treading water himself?

 

May throws her arms around him; Tony’s so surprised that it takes him a second to respond.

 

“May…”

 

“You get him back, Stark,” she says fiercely, and he reminds himself that May Parker is not as fragile as people seem to think. “You get our kid back.”

 

 _Our kid_. She doesn’t even question that Tony deserves a place in Peter’s life. Maybe, if this doesn’t kill him, he’ll start accepting it himself.

 

“I promise,” he says. “You’ll be yelling at him to tidy his room before you know it.”

 

She lets out a wet laugh that trails off into a sniffle. “Just the one in the apartment. His room up here – that’s all yours.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony whispers, “that’s fair.” He clears his throat and turns to Happy as May steps back. “You can keep it locked down here until we get back, right? Keep an eye on this one.” Harley scowls when Tony tries to ruffle his hair. “He likes exploding things.”

 

“That was your idea-!”

 

“We’ll be fine, Boss. Go get the kid, all right?”

 

Harley doesn’t hug him, but Tony doesn’t expect him to. Instead, he sets his jaw and fixes Tony with a glare. “If you die, I’ll kill you.”

 

Tony doesn’t know what to say to that – he can’t promise that he won’t – so he just tells him, “Stay by the phone.”

 

Harley rolls his eyes.

 

“Oh, and there’s a bucket of candy in the kitchen. Just for you.”

 

The kid raises his middle finger, and Tony’s glad it’s the last thing he sees before he steps through the portal behind Pepper and Rhodey.

 

Wong closes the portal over and they stand in a loose ring in the middle of a Wakandan field, far away from the city in case the energy released is too explosive for the gauntlet to contain. Okoye watches them with narrowed eyes; she’s always been very clear about the fact that her priorities are Shuri, T’Challa and Wakanda, and Tony respects that. He has his own priorities, after all.

 

The gauntlet is sitting in a case that Steve’s carrying, like it’s not about to decide the fate of the universe. Every time Tony looks at it or thinks about, his stomach does a sickening little swoop. This could fix everything, or it could kill Tony in an instant, and they won’t know until he puts it on.

 

Best not tell Steve that, though.

 

“Do we have to do this now?”

 

Nebula always looks at Steve like he’s stupid, which Tony enjoys immensely. “Thanos already knows that something is happening because he’s lost the Soul Stone. We have to do it as soon as possible.”

 

“Appreciate the concern, Cap.” Tony pats him on the shoulder. He has to be flippant, has to make a joke out of this, because if he doesn’t, if he starts thinking about how it’s not him who’ll be lost if this doesn’t work…

 

Steve sighs and opens the case. Tony taps his chest piece, letting his armour bleed out.

 

Pepper gives him a reassuring smile. He thinks of her, their baby, Peter.

 

He sticks his left arm out and slips it into the gauntlet, and the world goes white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you can probably tell, i find the parallels between tony and thanos absolutely fascinating. there's far more than what i mentioned here, but we're here for the irondad angst so. yaknow


	4. showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is it,” Tony murmurs, half to himself, just like he had in the Sanctum so long ago. This is the decider. This is a chance to finally end it, or lose everything all over again, but they have to take it.
> 
>  
> 
> “This is it,” Strange agrees.
> 
>  
> 
> The gauntlet is lying a few feet away, resting on the grass like nothing ever happened. Behind it, Quill is eyeing it like he either wants to put it on or blow it up, while Drax and Mantis are doing…whatever it is they do.
> 
>  
> 
> “One last fight,” Strange says. His Cloak shifts around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i was kinda worried for a second that we wouldn’t get a reunion hug in endgame, but the russos are obviously Giving Us What We Want. they said irondad rights
> 
> i really wanted to upload this yesterday (i stayed in the library until 8pm and almost forgot a meeting with my dissertation supervisor lmao) but it just wasn’t happening and i really wanted it to be right so. finally done with this monster of a chapter. here ya go

Peter finds him. Peter always finds him.

 

“Mr Stark? Mr Stark, please-“

 

_“Mr Stark, please, I don’t wanna go-“_

 

“Please, please, you can’t be dead-“

 

_“I don’t know what’s happening-“_

 

“Wake up, please, wake up-“

 

_“Wake up, Mr Stark, you can’t sleep on the couch-“_

 

Peter’s everywhere, laughing and smiling, crying and begging. Tony can’t find him.

 

No. No! He’s losing Peter. He can’t do that again. He _won’t_.

 

“Parker-“

 

Peter’s still sobbing somewhere, drowning out the other voice. Tony wants to reach out and tell him it’s okay, it’s all okay, but his arms are…not cooperating and he doesn’t even know where Peter _is_.

 

“He isn’t dead, kid. Look – his fingers moved.”

 

_Interesting._

 

The sobs quiet a little. “Mr Stark?”

 

Scared. His kid is scared. That’s not on.

 

The more aware he becomes, the more he realises how much he hurts. Everywhere is in pain, pain he didn’t think existed before this moment. He fights through it, willing his brain to just plug back in to his body and do what he wants it to for once in his damn life.

 

“Come on, Stark,” the other voice mutters. “I didn’t portal all the way here so your kid could watch you die.”

 

A tendril of warm orange breaks into the darkness surrounding Tony, but it’s not the Soul Stone or that dreaded sunset on Titan. It’s softer, warmer, but it’s prodding at him insistently.

 

“Get up.”

 

 _Five more minutes,_ Tony grunts.

 

“No time for that.” The light sounds like it would be frowning disapprovingly if it could. “I have someone here who’s very anxious to see you. Oh, and, uh, Thanos is coming. Get off your ass.”

 

“Please, you have to get up, Mr Stark, please-“

 

He wants to. He wants to, so badly, but he’s lost, floating in the dark, with only an irritating orange glow for company.

 

“Don’t make me do this, Stark.”

 

_Do what?_

 

The orange light slaps him in the face, hard. Electricity courses through his whole body, shocking him right down to the tips of his fingers.

 

“Ow, what the fuck-?” He sits up, shooting a venomous glare at where he thinks the light had been, only to meet the smug gaze of Stephen Strange.

 

“Just a little metaphysical defibrillator.”

 

“Strange?” He’s here. If he’s here, did it work? Or is Tony dead, too? What about-?

 

And then something tackles Tony around the waist and sends him crashing back to the ground, and it takes him a moment to realise he has an armful of Peter Parker.

 

Peter. _Peter_.

 

“Kid,” Tony breathes. There’s so much more he wants to say – apologies, ‘are you okay?’s, ‘I love you’s – but his throat closes up and he just clutches Peter tighter.

 

Nothing’s ever going to take his kid away again.

 

“You need to get up,” Strange says. “The gauntlet spat you out away from the others, but Thanos can sense where you are. He’s coming.”

 

Tony carefully sits up, still cradling Peter to his chest. The kid leans back just far enough that Tony can see the tears on his cheeks, the frantic terror still sitting just behind his eyes.

 

“I thought you were dead,” Peter whispers.

 

Tony can’t speak. He runs his thumbs under Peter’s eyes and wipes away the tears. _You were_.

 

“Stark,” Strange insists. “He is _coming_. He’ll be pissed off. He’s going to want to know why you got to have Peter back when he had to lose his daughter.” Why does Strange always know more than everyone else? “And he’s going to want revenge.” His gaze slides deliberately to Peter.

 

“So get us out of here. Get the others over here.” Tony’s voice sounds strangled, even to him. “Do _something_.”

 

“He’s drawn to the power of the Stones,” Strange says. “Our best bet is to regroup with the others.”

 

“This is it,” Tony murmurs, half to himself, just like he had in the Sanctum so long ago. This is the decider. This is a chance to finally end it, or lose everything all over again, but they have to take it.

 

“This is it,” Strange agrees.

 

The gauntlet is lying a few feet away, resting on the grass like nothing ever happened. Behind it, Quill is eyeing it like he either wants to put it on or blow it up, while Drax and Mantis are doing…whatever it is they do.

 

“One last fight,” Strange says. His Cloak shifts around him.

 

Tony clambers to his feet, pulling Peter up with him, and scoops the gauntlet up. It’s only when he tries to flex his fingers that he realises his left arm is completely numb; he can move it, but it feels like he’s been lying on it for hours. Some small, detached part of his brain wonders if it’s permanent. “He’s sniffing out the Stones, huh? Let’s give that purple Nazgûl a good fight.”

 

Peter laughs, and Tony nearly chokes on how much he’s missed that sound.

 

* * *

 

When they step through the portal and emerge beside Carol, who barely blinks, Tony sees Steve crying and his stomach drops.

 

But he’s hugging Wilson and Barnes like he’s never going to let them go. Clint has Wanda, Rocket has Groot – but runs to Quill and the others with a delighted yell when he sees them – and Okoye is embracing T’Challa and the princess.

 

Peter leans into his side. “You did it, Mr Stark.”

 

Oh, how he wishes that were true. “We’re not done yet, kid.”

 

* * *

 

They wait.

 

Tony’s stomach is churning. His left arm is starting to tingle in a way that’s verging on painful. He can feel Peter trembling next to him.

 

Their numbers have more than doubled, but Tony still feels frighteningly inadequate against what he knows is coming. Even with their friends and teammates returning, with everyone who’d disappeared after the battle in Wakanda, with the temporary king M’Baku rallying his forces as T’Challa calls his guard, even with Wilson and Rhodey standing back-to-back like they’ve been fighting together all their lives, he knows Thanos is formidable enough to sweep them all aside like they’re nothing.

 

The only advantage they might have is the Stones: Thanos has five; they have six. And Tony’s the only one who can use them.

 

Carol blows out a long breath, the first break in her self-control that Tony’s seen in a while. Clint and Natasha touch hands; Clint looks empty, drifting, and Tony’s suddenly thankful he got to see Peter again before this showdown.

 

“Pete,” he whispers, thankful that something’s breaking the awful silence but hating that it’s him.

 

Peter meets his gaze, eyes wide and trusting.

 

_If this goes wrong…_

_Please don’t fight._

_I can’t lose you again._

_I love you._

 

He can’t say any of that, so he reaches out and cups Peter’s cheek with his right hand. “Be careful, kid.”

 

“I will, Mr Stark,” Peter murmurs. “Promise.”

 

And, because Tony has the worst luck in the universe, that’s exactly when everything goes to shit.

 

* * *

 

Peter yells and tackles Tony to the ground just as a flash of purple light shoots over their heads. Everyone scatters.

 

“Good boy,” Tony gasps, tapping Peter’s arm. They have to get up, they can’t be vulnerable like this-

 

“Stark!”

 

Tony all but shoves Peter off him and rolls to his feet, bending his knees and spreading his arms to try and hide Peter from Thanos.

 

Thanos, who’s striding towards them with sheer fury radiating from every inch of him. And he’s very big, as Tony is now being forcefully reminded. That’s a lot of fury.

 

 _Focus, Tony._ Not the time for adrenaline-fuelled inner monologues.

 

“What did you do?” Thanos screams. “What did you _do?”_

 

Tony opens his mouth to retort, but a blast of white light hits Thanos square in the face and sends him stumbling backwards. “Or that works too, I guess.”

 

Carol fires another proton blast, and this time a bolt of lightning joins it. Thor’s roar is animalistic, almost a scream; Tony shudders.

 

Gods, aliens, superhumans, ancient cosmic powers – who is he compared to all that?

 

Valkyrie goes flying, and there’s a roar of, “Angry girl!” before the Hulk launches himself past Tony and straight into Thanos.

 

“Oh, sure,” Rhodey mutters. “ _Now_ he decides to play.”

 

Thanos lets out a bellow and lunges for Carol, only to be stopped by a thick rope of orange light. As Tony watches, Wanda wraps her own power around Strange’s and pulls; they both leap out of the way when Thanos comes staggering back towards them, swinging his arms wildly.

 

“Okay, Pete, you just…” Tony glances back to where Peter _had_ been only a few seconds before, except it’s now where Peter isn’t. “Stay close to me.” Shit.

 

_“Ready, kid?”_

 

Tony glances up just in time to see Sam fucking Wilson, of all people, swoop overhead, Peter dangling from a web beneath him. “What the fuck…?” he breathes out.

 

_“Okay, now!”_

 

Peter drops, right into the battle, and Tony shakes himself and starts forward because _his kid is in danger_ and he’s standing here doing fuck all about it.

 

“No, Tony!’ Steve orders. “We don’t know what the gauntlet-“

 

“I’m fine!” His left arm is now in the painful stage of numb, but no need for anyone else to know.

 

“Actually, he nearly died,” Strange mutters. Traitor.

 

“Right.” Steve sounds like he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “So stay back.”

 

Peter flips through the air, fighting alongside T’Challa like they’ve been doing it for years. He shoots a web at Thanos’ face to blind him and barely gets out of the way of a flailing purple fist.

 

“Yeah, nice try.” Tony clenches his left hand, hoping some feeling comes back. No such luck.

 

It doesn’t matter. He can do this.

 

“Hey, honeybear. Wanna team up our guns?”

 

_“Sounds fun.”_

 

 _“Is this an open invitation?”_ Pepper asks.

 

“More the merrier, honey,” Tony says, because at least if Pepper is using her repulsors, then she’s not actually fighting. His anxiety can only take so much.

 

The fight is moving away from him, closer to the forest at the edge of the open field, so he takes off and hovers, waiting for Rhodey and Pepper to join him. “FRIDAY, engage joint targeting systems with the War Machine and Rescue units.”

 

_“Sure thing, Boss. May I offer some warning about your left arm?”_

 

“You may not. Find me a nice place to hit on that universe-destroying bastard, but make sure no one’s in the line of fire. Maybe Barton.”

 

_“You’re funny, Stark. It’s a shame I don’t fight at close range, isn’t it?”_

 

“Terrible.” He can see Rhodey and Pepper hovering either side of him, their repulsors armed and ready. “Okay, girl. Give me something.”

 

_“I suggest his left shoulder; that is his gauntlet arm but it seems to be weaker than his other side.”_

 

“Left shoulder it is.”

 

They fire at the same time, all hitting Thanos on the back of his shoulder. He screams.

 

_“Huh.”_

 

“ _Why_ do you sound surprised, Rhodey?”

 

_“It actually worked.”_

 

Tony snorts. “Screw you.”

 

Thanos swivels and twists away from their blasts. The grass behind him bursts into flames.

 

“Okay, abort.” Tony flies away to a soundtrack of Rhodey’s laughter, searching for another clear shot. “Call it a trial run. We’re still working on moving targets.”

 

The rest of the Avengers and their allies begin to close in again, but Thanos stands his ground like they’re water breaking against a solid wall. Good to know Tony’s weapons did practically nothing.

 

History repeats itself, he supposes, firing off a shot. The united strength of the Avengers, all of Tony’s tech and Quill’s outer-space nonsense and Wakanda’s ingenuity and their fighting skills and even Strange’s magic bullshit – even together, it might not be enough.

 

“You’re beginning to annoy me, _bug_ ,” Thanos snarls, and hurls something through the air. Tony catches the metallic blur of red and blue in the corner of his eye just as FRIDAY pops up a warning from Karen in his display.

 

 _Shit_. “Peter!” Tony peels away from the fight, swooping towards the little shape in his HUD.

 

_“Pete, you gotta let go! I’m gonna catch you!”_

 

He doesn’t.

 

Peter hits the ground and rolls, horrifyingly limp, until he comes to a stop just before the treeline. He doesn’t move, not even when Tony lands right beside him.

 

“Pete? No, come on.” He’s afraid to ask FRIDAY or Karen what they know. Instead, he drops his gauntlet to the ground – he hadn’t even realised he was still holding it – and reaches out to touch the kid’s shoulder. It’s Germany all over again. What if he’s-? “Peter?”

 

Peter groans.

 

“Christ,” Tony gasps. Not for the first time that day, his chest is heaving unsteadily. “FRI?”

 

_“Nothing serious, Boss.”_

 

“Holy shit, Parker.” Tony lets his helmet fold away as Peter sits up, and he grabs the kid’s shoulders. “Never again. You can never do that to me again.”

 

“I’m good, I’m good!” Peter’s own mask folds back so Tony can see his face, eyes bright and clear. “I promise I’m fine.”

 

“Jesus Christ.” Tony lets out a shaky breath and looks back at the battle.

 

They’re losing. Everything they have, everything they are isn’t enough; Thanos just swats away every attack like they’re nothing more than annoying flies.

 

Except…Tony still has the gauntlet. He has a _complete_ gauntlet. Thanos only has five Stones. It has to be him.

 

He considers telling Peter to stay where he is, but experience and instinct warn him that it won’t work; it never does. At the very least, he can make sure it’s over before Peter gets back to the battle.

 

“Listen.” Peter’s attention snaps back to him without question. “When it starts, I need you to stay out of the way, okay? Just in case.”

 

“When what starts?” Peter starts to climb to his feet, but Tony’s already firing up his repulsors. “In case of what? What are you doing? Mr Stark!”

 

Peter’s cry is almost enough to make Tony stop. Almost. He picks up the gauntlet and flies straight towards Thanos.

 

Pepper sees him first, because of course she does. _“Tony!”_

 

“Tony!” That’s Steve. “Tony, don’t!”

 

“Keep back, Stark!”

 

“Don’t let him put that thing back on!”

 

Tony ignores them, landing in front of Thanos as he flings Carol into Valkyrie, swipes Natasha aside and shrugs off Quill’s blasters like they’re nothing.

 

“Stark.”

 

Tony’s senses zero in. Nothing else matters; he’s only focused on the Titan in front of him.

 

“I’m very glad you’re here.” Thanos starts to stride towards him.

 

“Gonna try and kill me again?” Tony says. “’Cause, honestly, you kinda bottled it last time.”

 

“I’m not going to kill you, Stark.” The last time they fought, Thanos was composed, almost indifferent. Now, he’s a mountain of seething rage. “I’m going to make you watch while I kill everyone you care about, and I’ll start with the bug.”

 

“You won’t get near him,” Tony says flatly. “You won’t hurt him ever again.”

 

“This cost me everything,” Thanos hisses, “and you think you can just undo what I’ve spent half my life trying to achieve? What gives you the right? You ruined everything.”

 

Tony meets his gaze coldly and shrugs. “You took my kid.” He slips the gauntlet back on.

 

* * *

 

This time, it _hurts_.

 

His consciousness spins and whirls and splits into six different parts, each one a bright, tempting colour, each one calling, beckoning-

 

_No._

_No?_

 

 _We have a job to do_ , he tells them.

 

_And why should we listen to you?_

_I’m holding you, aren’t I?_

 

The colours stop swirling dizzyingly. Tony opens his eyes.

 

Thanos is still standing before him, poised and ready to fight. The others have moved back and gathered around them in a loose circle, watching Tony with trepidation. No – _fear_.

 

Holy shit. He’s glowing.

 

There’s fire racing through his veins, light that’s green and yellow and purple and red and orange and blue. He laughs, but he can’t hear himself over the roaring in his ears.

 

He could do _anything_.

 

Steve is yelling something, gesturing for everybody to move away. When he looks back at Tony, he has to shield his eyes, and when he tries to run forward, he can’t get close. Someone else follows, smaller and faster, ducking past all the hands that try to stop him until metal arms close around his waist and pull him back. His mouth is moving.

 

_Mr Stark!_

 

Peter.

 

The Stones settle and quiet all at once, like they’re resigned to listening to him. Tony’s head is suddenly as clear and peaceful as if he’d dunked it in a bucket of ice water.

 

He thrusts his left arm out, catching Thanos in a net of purple light before he can get any closer. There’s a flash of blue at the edge of his vision, metal glinting in the sunlight, but he can’t focus on that now. Some part of him knows that, if he does this, if he uses this power again, it will kill him.

 

What other choice does he have? Tony grits his teeth and braces himself, but before he can do anything, the blue shape comes into focus.

 

_Huh._

 

Peter is frantic, scrabbling and kicking against Rhodey’s grip. The roaring in Tony’s ears is too loud for him to hear what Peter’s screaming, but he can still make out the tears in his kid’s eyes.

 

Thanos is screaming, too, thrashing against the ropes of purple light that are holding him in place. If this is going to end, it needs to be soon.

 

But he’s Tony Stark. He invented having the last word, so he lowers his gauntlet without relaxing his fingers, channels his inner asshole, and smirks. “Boom.”

 

Thanos tilts his head. “Boom?”

 

Nebula cuts his head off.

 

It’s quiet and anticlimactic and really fucking gross, but the look of relief on her face, the sheer catharsis, tells Tony he did the right thing. He exhales and lets the light fizzle out; the sudden loss of it leaves him breathless.

 

“Holy shit,” someone mutters. It sounds like Wilson.

 

Thanos’ headless body slumps forward on the grass. His head rolls a little way down the hill. Someone retches behind Tony.

 

“Uh…” He turns to face everyone with a weak grin. “Ta-da!”

 

* * *

 

Pepper doesn’t even take her armour off before she punches him, which Tony supposes is fair. She then kisses him, which he probably doesn’t deserve, but he’s not complaining.

 

It’s a fairly equal share of hugs, kisses and punches, sometimes all from the same person, until he gets to Peter.

 

The kid shakes his head like he’s trying not to cry and throws his arms around Tony.

 

“Pete…” After all the weeks, months – who knows how long? – since the Snap, he’s here and alive and in Tony’s arms. Not a desperate hug, grasping at Tony’s back like he has the power to keep him solid, but a real embrace, the kid burying his head in Tony’s shirt. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re all okay. Look at me, kid. I’m fine.”

 

Peter shakes his head again but doesn’t lift it, mumbling into Tony’s shoulder, “You were glowing!”

 

Despite everything, Tony laughs. “Appreciate it, but don’t you usually say that to the woman expecting the baby?”

 

 _That_ makes Peter pull back and stare at him. “What?”

 

“What?” Tony meets Pepper’s eyes. “Shit…”

 

She shrugs and gives him a rueful grin. “Smooth, Tony.”

 

“You’re what?” Rhodey says. “You let her fight?”

 

“And she kicked ass!”

 

Peter laughs. Steve nearly has an aneurism.

 

* * *

 

It’s not until much, much later that it all feels real.

 

They’re all sprawled on various chairs and couches around the Compound’s common area, some drunk, some in food comas, all of them completely worn down and exhausted and emotionally drained.

 

It’s a strange sight, the Winter Soldier sitting cross-legged on a sofa and talking quietly but enthusiastically to Wanda – Tony’s sure he heard, “Can I see a picture of your goats?” at one point – but there are worse things. There are far worse things.

 

Tony glances over at Pepper, who’s claimed a recliner all to herself, one hand resting on her stomach, and returns her gentle smile.

 

“You okay?” she whispers.

 

“Are you?”

 

“Deflecting, Tony.”

 

“I’m good,” he promises. “Just…can’t believe we did it.”

 

“Believe it,” Rhodey says from the couch opposite. “Look around you, man. They’re all here because of you.”

 

They haven’t fixed everything. The global economy is still in freefall. Vision’s lifeless body is still in Wakanda’a labs. They haven’t figured out a way to dispose of the Stones or to bring Gamora back or explain what happened to the rest of the universe, or even thought about what the hell to do with Thanos’ body.

 

But he’s here, alive and with only the slightest tingling in his left arm, surrounded by his family. Harley has his feet kicked up into his lap, snoring softly into the arm of the couch, while Peter is curled up on his other side. May has his arm in a vice-like grip that hasn’t loosened since Peter stepped through Strange’s portal and she yanked him into a hug. Tony understands the feeling; he’s barely let Peter get further away than arm’s length. He can’t imagine he will for a while.

 

Rhodey follows his gaze and smiles. “ _He’s_ here because of you, Tony. You got your kid back.”

 

 _His kid_. Tony glances over at May, the question already half-formed in his head, but she rolls her eyes.

 

“Don’t even start, Stark.”

 

It’s quiet for a moment, the first real peace Tony can remember having in far too long. He relishes it, focusing on the weight of Harley’s feet on his thighs and the reassuring rise and fall of Peter’s chest against his own.

 

Happy, passed out on the couch beside Rhodey, lets out a loud snore.

 

Pepper closes her eyes and does her best to stifle her giggles, but she makes eye contact with May and then both of them are a lost cause. Harley peels open one eye and raises his eyebrows, the picture of such confusion that Rhodey snorts into his hand, which sets Tony off and Peter rubs his eyes at the noise and sits up.

 

“Sorry,” Tony whispers, patting Harley’s legs and running his other hand through Peter’s already ruffled hair, “sorry, go back to sleep. It’s okay.”

 

The boys – listen to him, he sounds like a dad – settle back down.

 

“Mr Stark?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“What did Doctor Strange mean earlier? When he said you got to have me back?”

 

Tony freezes. “Uh…” Peter can’t know. He can't ever know. Not about the Soul Stone, not about the fact that he was what Tony had to sacrifice, and certainly not that Tony would have traded places with him in a split second if he'd had to. “Well, here you are, aren’t you?”

 

“I guess.” He doesn’t sound convinced; Tony prays for a distraction, and fast.

 

Happy snores again.

 

This time, it’s Peter who can’t hold back his laughter, even though he tries to muffle it in Tony’s chest. Harley just stares, like he’s questioning how exactly his life has come to this.

 

Tony laughs too, quietly wondering how much of it is sheer hysterical relief, but decides he doesn’t really care. He’s allowed this. He has everyone he loves together, alive and safe. He’s happy.

 

The realisation hits him like a truck. He’s _happy_. He’s happy and, for once, he doesn’t feel like something’s going to swoop in and pull the floor out from under him. For once, he feels like he might get to have this and hold onto it, like the universe might finally allow him to keep it.

 

“Leave the man alone, Parker,” he says to the pile of sniggering teenager in his arms.

 

“I’ve never heard _anyone_ snore like that,” Peter says, and Harley nods in agreement.

 

“You’re both cruel kids.” Tony shakes his head. “You’re lucky I love you.”

 

Pepper breaks into a wide smile and Tony suddenly realises _what the fuck he just said._ Out loud. He said that _out loud_. In front of people.

 

Oh shit oh shit-

 

“Whatever, old man.” Harley looks supremely unbothered, and Tony’s racing heart slows a little. “Love you too.”

 

“Mm-hm,” Peter mumbles, sleepy and soft. “Love you too, Mr Stark.”

 

Yeah. He gets to have this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tony is a dad and nebula deserves to kill thanos send post
> 
> me: i have things to do, exams and deadlines are coming up, i need to meet with my lecturers, sort out housing for next year, i have wips and more fics planned, the last writing challenge i did was okay because i wasn’t that busy but it still took up a lot of time-  
> also me: pr o m pt c hal l en g e
> 
> yes, i’m back on my bullshit lmao. i’ve requested a card from @irondadbingo on tumblr and i’m really excited to start it, so thank you guys for reading this, and i’ll see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> i am on tumblr @akillerqueenwrites or my main blog @akillerqueenyouare. come say hi, leave questions, prompts or yell at me.


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